Chapter 1
The floor came rushing to him before he knew it, a thud and two smacks of his hands, laughter ensued from those around him, managing to his feet, slowly looking at a familiar pair of tacky Air Jordans, looking up.
"So fucking pathetic, a weirdo so weird, the other freaks in the school won't even fuck with you, Dennis," Kirk laughed.
"I'm tired of your bullshit," Dennis murmurs, walking away.
"You gonna do something about it... not a damn thing," he poked his forehead, walking away.
Standing there angry, Dennis punched a locker.
"Hey! Get to class and stop destroying school property, before I take you to the counselors office," some teacher said, walking down the hall, "stop being a degenerate."
"I'm not the problem in this school, and I'm tired of being singled out, like I'm the one causing trouble, you teachers always overlook," he stormed off.
After school Dennis came across a note left by his parents they'd be back in a week, going on a vacation without him, again, with a sigh, tossing his backpack in his room, his parents call The Hell Den, he grimaced at another bible left on his bed. Throwing it in the trash on the way out the door, throwing his messenger bag on his back, taking a ride to the local occult shoppe.
"Merry meet," greeted the merchant.
"Merry meet," he walked by her.
"Something wrong, isn't it? I can feel it in you."
"A lot of stuff is wrong, that's why I'm here. I'm tired of it, and need something to change it all."
"In everything, there are lessons to learn, from that we come up on top. Stay positive, my friend."
"Yeah, right," he muttered.
Dennis walked the aisles, looking for anything to plot his revenge, not finding anything remotely close, or capable of helping him achieve his desires, as he saw fit.
"She's right, you know," a man chuckled, "not on her advice, but something does ail you, an anger at the world that preys upon you."
"What would you know?"
"Feel. I feel it in you, hatred... and the desire to fix it."
"I just need the..."
"Power," they said together.
"Of course, you do. I assume without repercussions? Spells in revenge will come back to you threefold, and karma, well karma really is a bitch- fickle one, at that. You don't need self-inflicted strife, trying to change and adding to the strife already bestowed upon you by the world."
"Exactly! I need something like that!"
"Of course, and I have it here," the shady man moved, revealing a door he leaned against, "consider it the stores own Diagon Alley, poor joke, I know."
He opened the door, energy inside told him, this is what he was looking for, as Dennis followed the man inside.
"I have all you need, some of it is fairly contemporary; candles and such."
"Oh fuck yeah, I need the power to teach these dumbasses a lesson."
The man stopped thumbing through books, looking at him, "you don't need the power, you need something else that has the power and absolves you of any complicity. Heed my words, kid."
Dennis said nothing, watching him gather a few things, and grab a book.
"Ah, yes, this should be of help to you; this book has a few demons that could help you."
"Demons?! Are you serious?"
"Oh yes. They are powerful enough to get the job done, mind you these aren't demons of Abrahamic nature, they are, as demons are to am extent, among other creatures; predictable... and don't hang around after fulfilling a contract. It's up to you, to find the ones that suit your needs, and can meet your expectations."
"Are you sure this is a good idea, I mean; these are demons."
"Trust me on this, and we can't forget this; just in case," he reached in a drawer on the counter, pulling out a Faberge egg looking thing that looked of brass and pearl.
"What's that?"
"Believe it or not; a Holy Hand Grenade. Don't take the title lightly; it dispels all dark entities with extreme prejudice. Keep it close on your person, if you screw up, or anything else goes wrong; it's a last resort. The hard shell weakens around dark forces, to be broken and release sanctified, consecrated energy. Throw it, sit on it, if you must."
"Wow, that sounds potent."
"It is, thus hard to make. I'll consider a fair price for this all, but the book, I'd like to return, no good can come from it, obviously, I'll take a piece of your soul, as collateral- one does not keep these from true dark hands by giving them out. Do what you need to do, and bring it back, precipitous and quick."
"What if somebody steals it?"
"There are things in place to watch that sort of ill-intent, now look in this vial with your third eye."
Dennis places the vial on his forehead, right where Kirk poked at it; a dull pain came over him as a piece of his soul pulled through, filling the vial. The man placed it with other souls.
"Now... I cannot stress this enough; find a demon that will do the job for you, do not divest from that, do not let the demon, or use a demon that speaks otherwise."
Dennis gathered his acquired items in his messenger taking leave.
"So, did you find what you were looking for," the merchant asked.
"Not really, but I know what I hafta do," he left.
A weird ominous feeling washed over her, when he walked past.
On his ride home, eager to get down to business, Kirk pulled next to him in his car.
"Look, it's the emo Satanist retard," Kirk yelled.
"I'm not a Satanist you dullard!"
